Little Green Lies
by theAsh0
Summary: Dystopian AU. Ba Sing Se is the last bastion against Fire Lord Ozai and his daughter, General Azula. But the price of living within its walls is freedom of a different kind.
1. Chapter 1

**Au. Ba Sing Sei, the last bastion against the fire-nation, attracts all those who wish to remain free of the Fire-Lord's reign. But the price of living within the earth-city walls is freedom of a different kind. One shot. **

**Warning: implied brain-washing.**

**Insert disclaimer.**

**~.~.~ I ~.~.~**

The boy was just standing there, still like a statue. A man now, the old tea-brewer corrects himself. Eighteen years means grown in the eyes of the law, if not in the eyes of a parent. For that boy, eyes fixed on a point the old man need not see to know where, was his son in all but fact.

"Lee." He calls out softly, not wanting to wake anyone, nor draw unwanted attention.

The boy's profile, illuminated by the first rays of the morning sun, reminds Mushi of his little brother. And the thought saddens the old man, for he would rather compare this one to his long-lost son.

"Lee." He calls again, a little louder, while opening the slide-door from their little apartment. No reaction, so he opts for friendly conversation, trying to draw the boy back. "I thought I saw you standing there. Out from sun-set to sunrise, my rascal? That must have been _some_ date!"

Finally, his nephew acknowledges him and turns, memory's spell broken by red light playing off that leather-skinned scar. Lee's hand comes up unconsciously to finger the collar at this throat: leather studded with metal chain, a small medallion at its center. And his uncle has to bite back the urge to yell at the boy not to touch it.

Nothing would happen anyway—the old General experimented with his own enough to know.

"Do you know?" Lee says sounding distant though they stand only feet apart. "That everybody lies? Everybody does, but for different reasons."

_Are you asking me why I lie?_ 'Mushi' wonders. And something tugs at the old man, constricting his chest to get stuck in his throat: it is equal parts worry, and hope.

_I only want to see you happy_.

"Zuko…?"

The boy blinks, and the moment is steps up next to his uncle. "That had better not be another one of your slang-words for kissing. Or worse."

The tea-brewer manages a weak smile: "I take it you and Jin had a good time then?"

A roll of the eyes, which the old man has come to recognize to mean: _'I'd rather die than admit to that.', _and the subject is changed: "Today is a Monday."

-"It is."

"Morning rush starts slow on Mondays. Mind if I come in late?"

"Ah. I am sorry nephew. But the generals have asked me to brew for them again, on their morning's meeting." And ask an old general for advice on how to keep the hordes of the Fire-Nation at bay. But that is not for Lee to know. "I am afraid you will be responsible for the shop this morning."

"Ah. No matter. I sleep poorly after sun-up anyway." He replies, stepping inside, likely only for a shower and a fresh change of clothing, giving the customary city's greeting: "The Avatar Watches Over Us."

"And So There Is No War In Ba Sing Sei." The man that was once Iroh, Dragon of the West, replies automatically.

~.~.~ S ~.~.~

"That is a lie!" Katara calls, challengingly.

"Is not."

Sokka, her big brother, even stops stuffing his mouth to deny it.

"Master Piandao says I may even be a master in my own right own right next year." He glances away, eyes taking on a far-away gleam as his attention leaves that little servant's table the pair gets to use for breakfast: "I'll be a master swordsman before my eighteenth birthday. With only three years of formal training under my belt. Master says that makes me a prodigy!"

"pfffah!" his little sister snorts derogatively, absently scratching at her neck, annoyed.

There was a band there: leather, studded. But for some reason that was not important.

And Sokka has to remind himself that she is just in a bad mood because of the moon, and maybe worried about him. Worried that he might be tempted to join one of Piandao's elite squads on the wall; worried that they'll talk him into joining the war effort.

Because honestly, what else would she be? Jealous? She's a _girl_. Not a warrior.

Katara needed have worried though. Sokka had already signed his life away. How to tell her is now his biggest worry: she might well be devastated. She might not want to talk to him ever again, when she hears. Sokka thought he should enjoy this life while it lasted.

His little sister's expression is priceless: crossed eyes and puffed up cheeks. "The only things you'd ever be a prodigy in is eating and—."

"Where are my EYEBALLS!"

Sokka swallows his last bite and rises graciously to his feet, making his voice as sweet as he can: "Right down here, Miss Bei Fong!"

"Kissing up." His sister supplies.

Sokka throws the girl a meaningful stare as the daughter of the house makes her way down the stairs, to them.

A pair of orphaned displaced kids like themselves should be _happy _with the cushy job they've landed at the Bei Fong's. But Katara isn't paying him any heed; just scratching her neck and looking antsy. She's always antsy at the full-moon night, and the moon is still up this morning, pale and yellow as the rising sun battles her for dominance, but still up.

_Full-moon itch. Like a werewolf._ Sokka doesn't even understand why the moon is relevant.

But then Toph is down stairs, and so he moves out to take her by the arm, and tells her she looks lovely today. Toph just snorts and replies him that was nice for everybody else, but none of _her_ concern. All the while Katara throws him rude faces. But Sokka knew this game, and he could tell from the way Toph hung on his arm that she was enjoying it. "So, are you all ready for school milady?"

"All ready." The blind girl laughs, the boisterous un-lady like way she reserved for inside the house. "Let's go." She holds out her other arm for Katara, who takes it, with only a minor roll of the eyes.

"Almost ready, dear _lady._" Sarcasm was thick in Katara's voice, but that only ever seemed to entertain the daughter-heir when Sokka was around. "You seem to be forgetting your _shoes _again."

The Lady Bei Fong tisked. "I hate those things. But you are right."

Ever the gentlemen, Sokka went up stairs to get a pair of white half-high step-ins, and he helps Toph into the pair before giving her a little twirl, careful not to let her unbalance. "Why _do_ you hate shoes so, lady Toph? They look great on you."

Toph scratched the back of her neck, and Sokka idly wonders why those leather chokers are so popular lately. "I don't rightly know…"

**~.~.~ I ~.~.~**

When Iroh makes it to the meeting hall, assorted teas with him on a rolling table, only the boy is there: he is at his usual space, right on top of the middle of the table. He sits on a cushion lotus-style, eyes closed. But his arrows are glowing.

"Good morning, Avatar." Iroh tries in a cheerful voice. "Could I interest you in some tea?"

The boy's eyes open, but they glow blue, and the old man knows his mind is still far, far away.

"The Avatar protects Ba Sing Sei." He supplies, mechanically.

"And a great job you are doing, my boy." the old man sooths. "But a growing boy needs his rest, and a few minutes to collect his thoughts before the earth-generals arrive, perhaps…?"

Orbs of blue light seem to focus on the ex Fire-nation general: "Azula's armies surround our walls, and they hunger for their final victory."

"But they cannot get in." Iroh counters with a smile. "Come, I've made you my special mountain blend again."

The Avatar blinks. "Ooh. My favorite. Thank you, Iroh."

A true smile: "You are very welcome. And happy fifteenth birthday, Aang."

~.~.~.~.

**Because Ba Sing Sei scares me, and this had to be done.**


	2. Chapter 2

Dear readers,

After some deliberation, I have decided to return Little Green Lies to its one-shot status, and continue the spin-off tale under the working title 'Handled'.

The prologue is a new addition to that story, and up. What was previously this second chapter is now named the first chapter of Handled.


End file.
